


One Year Later

by aroseofstone (Adams1422)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 02:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15741966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adams1422/pseuds/aroseofstone
Summary: A year after Rose Tyler and the Metacrisis Doctor are dropped off in Pete's world, things are changing for them.Inspired by the prompt "Person A is about to leave for work. Person B asks them if they’ve forgotten anything, and Person A gives them a kiss. Person B turns red and opens their hand to reveal Person A’s keys, saying 'I meant this, but thanks.'" This is really some fluff about the Doctor and Rose finding each other again.





	One Year Later

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! Hi! Let me tell you, I did not expect to write this fic. Like, ever. I kind of got to the point that I thought I might never write another fic again (which made me very sad)... but then, suddenly, I found myself missing the Doctor and Rose like crazy. I think reading Tenscupcake's _Anthropomorphic_ really got me in that place and I just couldn't shake it. Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let you get to reading! Thank you so much if you're tuning in to read this. The Doctor and Rose will forever have a gigantic place in my heart. 
> 
> Huge, HUGE thanks to Britt for taking time out of her insanely busy life to beta this for me. You are the best friend on Earth!! <3

“C’mon, Rose! I’ve got everything set up. You are going to love this new sound system. And I promise it’s calibrated properly! No strange alien language dubs over our films this time.”

His voice floats across the flat and into the kitchen. It’s a comforting sound. One she thought, for a very long time, that she would never hear again. She thinks back to the countless nights she spent alone in a tiny one-bedroom flat, with ice freezing her veins, growing closer and closer to giving up on the cannon, giving up on everything. But Rose Tyler never gives up. And now, something she never even began to imagine has happened. Not only is she back with the Doctor, his warm presence fills their flat (now a cosy two-bedroom) every day.

It’s been a hard year for both of them. There were days when she came home from work and resented him. Resented his presence in her flat, in London, in this whole universe. Those were the bad days. But somehow, the Doctor never held them against her. Through it all, neither of them lost sight of the most important thing of all: that they need each other. The Doctor and Rose forever.

 

_Five months ago:_

_They both had a rough day, the Doctor seemed to be really feeling the absence of the TARDIS and, well,_ everything _in the former universe. And Rose was missing the Doctor. The full Time Lord. She’d spent the day at work locked in her office, crying. When she got home, she snapped at him, made a nasty comment that she can’t even remember now, one that she certainly didn’t mean, and he snapped back. It was quick and intense, a hot flame burning out before anyone could get a hold of the situation._

_They’d sagged down onto the couch, collapsing together, seeking each other. When Rose began to apologise for what she said, he cut her off._

_“The human mind… It isn’t equipped to deal with the situation we’re in, Rose. You and me, we’re building all of this from scratch. People aren’t meant to mourn the loss of someone important to them at the same time that they adjust to sharing a flat with them. It’s… a lot. For both of us.”_

_“I guess you’re right,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder. “People aren’t meant to lose everything either. I know there’s things about the TARDIS that I can never replace for you. No one can. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be. A telepath with no one to connect with. I’m sorry, Doctor. I’m so sorry.”_

_She felt him lightly press his lips against her temple. “Me too, Rose.”_

“Roooooose?” She’s snapped back to the present when the Doctor’s sing-song voice reaches her ears again.

“Just a minute,” she calls back. “Popcorn’s almost ready.”

A faint ‘mmm’ comes from his room and she laughs. The popping in the microwave is just starting to settle down, a second or two between each pop, so she opens the door and grabs the steaming bag.

“Hot, hot, hot” she mutters dropping it on the counter in front of her. Someone inhales a deep breath right beside her ear.

“That smells _amazing_ , did you get the movie theatre butter one?” the Doctor asks, suddenly right behind her. She jumps, her elbow swinging back and almost knocking him right in the stomach before she catches herself. She turns around when it clicks in who’s behind her.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that! I swear, you need a cat bell,” she gasps, clutching at her chest. “You’re lucky I didn’t thump you.”

“Sorry,” he says with a cheeky grin, “I just wanted to come help you carry everything.”

“I suppose that’s okay, then.” He laughs again, and it bounces off the tile and polished metal in the kitchen, filling the space. The light reflects off his brown eyes, dancing with a happiness that makes her whole heart clench. She wants to see him smile every day for the rest of her life.

For a moment, she feels like he can read her thoughts. Some of the mirth drains from his eyes, replaced with a desire that has been overtaking them more often these days. She thinks he might be about to lean in, to brush his nose against hers, when he catches himself. He shakes his head and takes a step back.

“I will carry these far-too-sugary drinks and you, Rose Tyler, can bring that irresistible popcorn.” He grabs the drinks from the counter next to her and turns around, practically sprinting back to his bedroom. Rose sighs. She isn’t sure whether she’s disappointed or relieved that he didn’t kiss her. Somewhere in between, which is a very confusing place to be.

She gets a giant bowl from their top cabinet and dumps the popcorn into it, taking one last moment to steady herself before she crosses their flat to enter his bedroom.

“Wow.” Her eyes roam over the electronics in front of her. The system he’s set up really is impressive, she can’t deny it. He’s cobbled together different bits of Earth and alien technology, most of it nicked from Torchwood when he visits her for lunch. The sound system he managed to build reminds her of the one from Zoranth II, a planet known for its legendary cinemas and music festivals that they’d visited together a lifetime ago.

“Pretty nice, right?” he says, preening beneath her approving gaze. This sound system is the whole reason they’re watching films in here tonight rather than on the couch like they normally do. He’s been bragging all week that he was going to blow her away with his new and improved tech, and she just didn’t have the heart to tell him no when he asked if movie night could be hosted in his room. And, truthfully, she didn’t _want_ to tell him no. A big part of her wants to snuggle up in his bed under his cushy blue duvet, lay her head against his shoulder and hold his hand. To feel the warmth of his body radiate into hers. To just be _close_ to him.

She snaps herself out of her daze.

“It _looks_ nice, anyway,” she teases. She pulls back the corner of the duvet and sits down on the edge of his bed. They both slouch down against his headboard and snuggle beneath the covers, a respectable amount of distance between them. “It’s yet to be seen whether or not it’ll actually be English coming out.”

“Oi, I’m a man of my word,” he huffs. “I promised no more accidental alien dubs, and that is exactly what I plan to deliver.”

“Okay, let’s see then,” she says. She grins over at him, her tongue poking out between her teeth. She hears him mumble something about ‘lack of trust’ and rolls her eyes. “S’not that I don’t trust you, Doctor. I know you _intend_ for the sound system to work perfectly… but that’s what you intended last week when we had to watch _Pride and Prejudice_ in Renkinian as well.”

He lifts the duvet and searches for a second before grabbing the remote, which she didn’t realise was right next to her thigh. His fingers brush against the exposed skin there for the briefest of moments and she has to hold back a gasp.

“Right, but since then I have identified the source of the problem — which was a Renkinian translator that somehow got stuck to the Llyrokan equaliser — and I have fixed it.”

“Ripped the translator off?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“Precisely.”

“Go on, then,” she says, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Press play. I’m ready to see these female Ghostbusters in action. We are way behind on current movies, by the way.”

He presses play without further comment and they both wait for the moment of truth. When the dialogue is actually in English, the Doctor makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat, looking over to Rose for affirmation, or an apology, or praise. She isn’t sure which one he wants most, but he would happily take any, she’s sure. She laughs, shoving his shoulder.

“Congratulations, Doctor,” she says softly. Her hand slides down from his shoulder and lands on his thigh. She gives it a soft squeeze. “You did it.”

He clears his throat, sitting up a little straighter. His thigh twitches beneath her palm and she quickly pulls it away. “’Course I did. I told you I would.”

They fall into a slightly awkward silence, both pairs of eyes glued to the telly in front of them. Rose can hardly focus on the film with all the different emotions swirling within her. It’s still confusing for her to be on shaky ground with the Doctor. For as long as they’ve known each other, up until everything got flipped upside down a year ago, their relationship has been as easy and natural as breathing.

When they first got stranded here, through all the strife they had an understanding. No matter what, they were still the Doctor and Rose. They were still best mates. They needed each other. Everything was different, but that would never change. So they worked at their relationship. Worked to understand each other and everything that had happened.

Things are shifting again for them now. So much of the time Rose finds herself wanting to grab him by his lapels and pull him down to her. To drag him back to her bed and make up for all the lost time. But she doesn’t. And he doesn’t. They’re in a limbo that neither one of them seems to know how to break.

Eventually, the silence relaxes. It turns comfortable, warm even. Unthinkingly, they gravitate towards each other, but the popcorn bowl rests on the duvet between them, pinning it down and keeping a good amount of room between them. Their fingers regularly brush together as they reach into the bowl, and neither of them mentions it. Once the bowl is empty, the Doctor places it on his bedside table. With nothing else blocking them from each other, it’s only a matter of time before they’re pressed side to side. The Doctor is warm and solid next to her and her palm itches to grab his hand and twine their fingers together.

“Rose?” His soft, hesitant voice startles her a little. She looks over.

“Yeah, Doctor?” she whispers back.

“D’you mind if… Would it be okay if I held your hand?” He’s blushing and it makes him just that much more endearing. It’s a bit shocking. The Doctor has never had to ask if he could hold her hand before. They’ve never had to ask each other about any form of touching. They just fell into it. Easy as breathing. Sometimes it’s striking, how different the little things are.

“If you don’t want to,” he begins, clearly worried by her silence.

“That would be nice!” she blurts out, extending her hand out to him. He visibly relaxes.

“Yeah?” He reaches out, hand hovering just inches above hers. She can feel the heat from his palm radiating across to hers.

“Yes.”

They move at the same time, bringing their hands together the last few millimetres. Cliché as it sounds, Rose feels a spark zing from his palm into hers. It sizzles all the way up her arm, straight to her brain, making her gasp. Since being dropped off in Pete’s World, they don’t hold hands nearly as much as they used to and feeling his palm against hers really centres her whole being for a moment. Instantly she spreads her fingers and twines them with his. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a soft smile spread across his face.

For the first time tonight — maybe the first time in a very long while — they both relax

completely.

* * *

 

Rose wakes up warm and especially content. She lies there with her eyes still closed, contemplating going back to sleep for a bit. The last thing she remembers is the Doctor clicking play on their third movie for the night. Suddenly, she realises her head is rising and falling softly, rhythmically. Her pillow doesn’t usually… She gasps, eyes snapping open.

She and the Doctor are all but wrapped around each other with his duvet resting around their waists. His arm is around her shoulders, holding her snugly against him. Her head is on his chest, one arm thrown over his stomach, the other curled over top of his head like she had been playing with his hair in her sleep. His even breathing tells here that he’s still very much asleep. All of her muscles freeze as her brain swirls through all her options: number one, somehow untangle her limbs from the Doctor’s without waking him and get out of his bed as quietly as possible; number two, face the music and wake the Doctor and be forced to deal with whatever awkwardness might follow; or, number three, relax and enjoy the moment for as long as she can. It takes her less than a second to decide what she wants to do.

The Doctor’s chest is warm and firm beneath her cheek. Without really thinking about it, her hand slides up his stomach and bunches in the material of his t-shirt right over his heart. It beats, strong and steady, beneath her touch. She breathes in deeply, comforted by his familiar scent. It’s different to the full Time Lord, just a little bit. Like lots of things about him. It’s a little muskier than him, little more human. But, at his very core, the base notes are the same, like an ancient library and tea and something a little sweet.

 His body temperature is another difference that she noticed from their first kiss on the beach. He runs a bit hotter than the Time Lord Doctor, closer to a human’s temperature. The Time Lord has the ability to regulate his temperature, on hot nights he cooled it down and when Rose was feeling chilly, he’d raise it, but in his natural state, he’s colder than her. This Doctor doesn’t have that ability. As far as things go, Rose supposes it’s not such a big deal. And she’s always been a cold sleeper, so if she had to pick one constant temperature, she might just go for warm.

She’s just about to toss one leg over his when he begins to stir. Rose panics, eyes clenching shut. Her fingers tighten minutely against his shirt. He shifts a little bit and she can practically hear the thoughts tumbling around in his head.

“Rose?” he whispers, lifting his shoulder just a tiny bit. “Are you awake?”

His voice is rough with sleep and it makes memories crash over her like a tidal wave. She remembers the rare mornings that she awoke before him, back when they were together on the TARDIS. The way his pillow creased his cheek and his hair sprawled against his pillow. She loved those mornings. Loved watching him sleep. It was a treat unlike any other to see him utterly and completely relaxed, the weight of the universe temporarily off his shoulders. She loved watching his eyelids flutter open and hearing the gruffness of his voice as he told her good morning. Tears brim in her eyes but she quickly blinks them back.

“I’m pretty sure you’re awake.” She can hear the smile in his voice. Ah, right. In her panic about whether to pretend to be asleep or fess up, she’d completely forgotten to actually try and _seem_ like she might be sleeping.

“Caught me,” she admits. They both laugh, a warm, quiet sound. The sound of Saturday mornings with nothing to do but be together.

“How long have you been awake?” he asks. Neither of them makes a move to disentangle themselves or look at the other. It almost feels like they’re in a bubble. Like as long as neither of them moves too quickly or speaks too loudly, this fragile moment can last.

“Dunno.” She gives a little shrug. “Ten minutes?”

“Not too long, then,” he says. He relaxes a little beneath her cheek, sinking further into the memory foam.

“When did you fall asleep?” she asks, realising it must have been sometime after she did. His shoulders stiffen back up instantly at her question.

“Probably about half an hour after you.” It sounds like he’s waiting to be scolded. “I know I should’ve… I just couldn’t bring myself to wake you. You looked so peaceful and I knew if I woke you up it would take you ages to fall back to sleep. And I know you had a hard week at work, so I just… left you. I’m sorry. Is that okay? We can have movie night in the living room next week if you —”

“Doctor,” she interrupts, sitting up to look him in the eyes. They’re filled with anxiety, his chest raising and falling rapidly with his elevated breathing. When she moves, he automatically shifts and mirrors her posture. “It’s fine, Doctor.”

The hand that’s still bunched in his t-shirt opens, smooths across his chest. His heart beats steadily against her palm.

“It’s fine,” she repeats. His breathing slows.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” She smiles at him, pushing his chest so that he falls gently back against his pillow. “I was exhausted. Honestly, if you’d tried to wake me I probably woulda just walloped you and gone back to sleep.”

 He laughs at that. A full, loud belly laugh that finally breaks the soft cocoon of quiet around them. Likely thinking of the mornings she actually _had_ walloped him for trying to wake her up before she was good and ready.

“That is true, Rose Tyler,” he says, still laughing. She joins him, falling back against the pillows again. She isn’t sure how long the laughter continues, but they both revel in it. It fades eventually, leaving them with sore cheeks and full hearts.

“Besides,” she says, nearly whispering. “It was… nice.”

He’s quiet for so long that she thinks he might not have heard her. She’s just starting to think that it was for the best that he didn’t when he speaks.

“It was,” he breathes. His left hand reaches out for hers and she meets him instantly. Their fingers interlock and he gives her a gentle squeeze. The morning ticks on while they lie there, basking in whatever all this is. Eventually, their stomachs start to growl, causing another wave of giggles.

“Sounds like it’s breakfast time, Dame Rose.” The Doctor sits up and pushes the duvet off his legs.

“I do believe it is, Sir Doctor.” Their feet hit the floor on opposite sides of the bed at the same time. “Last one to the kitchen is on dish duty!”

They scramble off the bed and out the door, laughter bouncing off the walls of their little flat as they race through the morning sun spilling into the living room.

* * *

 

Rose hangs her keys on their little hook beside the door and slips her shoes off. Just as she’s turning towards the loo to have a shower, the Doctor’s phone lights up on the coffee table. She walks over and picks it up, still buzzing, and she sees that it’s an unfamiliar number ringing, someone from the London area.

“Doctor?” she calls, unsure where he is in the flat.

“In the kitchen,” he responds. She scurries into the room, trying to get there before the call drops.

“Someone’s ringing you.” He looks up with a curious expression as Rose stretches her arm out and shows him the screen. “I didn’t recognise the number, so I thought it would be weird to answer it.”

He looks down at the phone and his face lights up like it’s Father Christmas calling him personally to tell him Christmas has come in July. He snatches the phone from her, pressing it to his ear instantly.

“Hello?” he says, in what she knows for a fact is his most professional voice. It’s the very one he uses when he’s trying to convince some king or president to listen to his solution to whatever problem they’ve run across. “Yes, this is he. I’m doing well, thank you. How are you?”

He’s silent for a long time, listening intently. Rose’s hands are clenched in front of her face, anxiety filling her stomach even though she has no idea what this call is about. Finally, he speaks again. “That would be perfect for me. Yes. Thank you so much. You have a great day, ma’am. I will see you Monday.”

His hand drops from his face and hangs limply at his side. His face is awestruck. Rose lets the silence continue for a few beats before she smacks his chest.

“What was that all about?” she demands. He snaps out of his daze and a massive smile blooms across his face.

“That was the Imperial College,” he whispers. “I got the job, Rose!”

They squeal and open their arms at the same time, wrapping each other up in a hug. A big, tight, proper hug. One like they haven’t had in a long time. Rose buries her face against his neck and inhales deeply. His scent floods her system and she feels completely surrounded by him. It actually makes a little heat pool in her belly. She hasn’t felt this sensation since the last night she spent with him, back before metacrises and time cannons and projections with no touch.

She holds him a little bit tighter and he adjusts his stance, just enough that they’re pressed completely against each other. His cheek is resting atop her head and his chest expands as he takes a deep breath. His fingers flex against her back, digging in just enough for her to feel it. The fact that this is the longest amount of contact that they’ve had is not lost on her (or on him, she believes). Rose pulls back slowly and looks up into his eyes. What she sees there makes her stomach melt and electricity sing in her veins. Her eyes lock on his bottom lip. God, it’s been so long since she tugged that perfect lip between her teeth. She feels herself rising up onto her tip toes, and the Doctor’s eyelids are fluttering shut. Just a little closer —

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! The oven timer screeches across the silence and they spring apart like two teenagers whose mums just walked in. Rose hadn’t even realised her eyes had closed until they snap open. They both take deep, gasping breaths and shuffle their feet. Awkward tension fills the air. It mounts higher and higher until Rose _has_ to either break it or run out of the room.

“Doctor! That’s amazing!” Her voice sounds a little frantic even to her own ears. She tries to dial it back. “I knew you’d get it, you’re the most brilliant person on this planet. Literally. They’d have been fools to pass you up. Oh, I’m so happy for you!”

“Thank you!” he says. He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’d, uh, better get that… don’t want my lunch to burn up, do I?”

He rushes over to the oven and takes out the chicken strips he’d been cooking. With a little space between them, Rose feels like she can breathe again. She shakes her head, determined not to let whatever just happened spoil such a great day for the Doctor.

“Let’s have dinner tonight,” she says. “A nice, proper one. We’ll cook, we’ll have some nice wine. A real celebration. You deserve it, Doctor.”

He turns to her, a soft expression on his face. He whispers, “I’d like that very much.”

“It’s settled then. I’ll go to the store right now and get everything we need. Pasta?”

“Pasta sounds lovely.”

* * *

 

“Ooh, watch out!” the Doctor says, swooping in and turning the heat down on the pasta which is just about to boil over.

“Shit, thank you,” Rose says. She turns from where she’s currently occupied with chopping the grape tomatoes and looks at him. Her hair is tied back in a messy ponytail, cheeks flushed a delicate pink and forehead shining with a thin layer of sweat from the heat in the kitchen. His chest feels tight when he looks at her. How is it that no matter what is going on, Rose Tyler is the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on?

He can still hardly believe they’re here. Not only is he back spending every day of his life with her, they’re in a _house_. With doors and _carpets_. Well, all right, it’s not a house. And the flat doesn’t actually have any carpets other than the rug in the loo. But still. Every morning he wakes up in this tiny flat, amazed that Rose Tyler somehow managed to keep a promise that should have been impossible. She wasn’t the first person to promise to never leave him, but she was the first to follow through.

He knows how difficult everything has been for her. And he hasn’t exactly been the easiest… flatmate? Friend? Former lover? Something a little more? Whatever his title, he hasn’t always been the best one. He’s had bad days. Days where he’s rebelled against the doors and little loo rug. Against the whole universe that he has been trapped in. He’s said things he doesn’t mean. He was silent for hours on end. But still, she never left him. Never made him leave the flat, never went to her mum’s for the night. By his side forever, just like she promised. Regardless of a romantic relationship (or lack thereof), she’s so much more than he could ever hope to deserve.

“No problem,” he says with a grin. “Now, I think this angel hair is pretty much done, I’m going to remove it from the heat. Next up, time to cook the chicken and everything that’s going into the pasta!”

“I’m nearly done with my mise en place, just finishing up these little tomatoes,” she announces, sounding accomplished. He chuckles at her word choice. They’d taken to watching a lot of Food Network in their time here and had both picked up a phrase or two in their daily lives.

“You did a beautiful job chopping this chicken.” He holds up the chopping board as though he’s a mentor on _Worst Cooks_ and picks up one single slice of chicken. He inspects it and places it back down next to the other pieces. “Absolutely lovely. Such uniformity! I think you’ll be keeping your apron this week, Ms. Tyler.”

Rose laughs and throws a dish towel at him. “Shut up, already.”

It hits him square in the face which makes Rose laugh even harder. He sputters a little bit, putting on his most indignant face. “Oi! No throwing things in the kitchen!”

He keeps up the façade for as long as he can — a mere few seconds — before he bursts into laughter too.

“Okay, okay,” Rose says once they’ve calmed down a little. “I’m starving; can we please get this meal cooked?”

“Whatever you say, Ms. Tyler.” The Doctor bumps her hip lightly with his own as he stands next to her and puts a large skillet on the stove. He turns the heat up and tosses some olive oil into the pan. He adds the garlic, giving it a good stir until a heavenly scent fills their little kitchen.

Rose makes a quiet sound in the back of her throat that sparks something low in his stomach. He ignores that spark in favour of not burning down their flat, focusing instead on putting the chicken in the pan.

“We should cook with garlic more often,” Rose says, leaning against his shoulder to sniff the pan more directly. “It’s fun to mince and the whole flat smells amazing when we do. Not to mention the taste.”

She makes that sound again, this time much closer to his ear. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up, gooseflesh spreading across his arms.

“Yes.” His voice cracks and a flush creeps up around his ears. He clears his throat and tries again. “Yes, we should. You know, I actually learnt to cook with garlic for the first time on a planet that worships garlic. Imagine that, Rose! _Worshiping_ garlic. Absolutely bonkers, that was. Nice people, though. Great food. Except for the one chef who tried to get me to eat an entire bulb of the stuff to enter his master class.”

Rose laughs, placing a hand on his arm. “Please tell me you didn’t do that!”

“Oh, you know me,” he says, turning to her with a raised eyebrow. “Never shirk back from a challenge. It wasn’t as bad as you’d think. Tell you what, though, I had garlic breath for the rest of my regeneration after that trip. That is the truth. Sometimes I swear I can still taste it.”

“You are unbelievable.” There’s a fondness in her voice that warms his hearts — er, his heart. Still getting used to that. Before he can think too much about his lack of a second heart, Rose nudges his arm. “That piece is sticking, Doctor.”

He shakes his head, flipping the little piece of chicken with his tongs. “Just about ready for your tomatoes, I think.”

“Grape tomatoes coming right up, Chef Doctor,” Rose says with a little salute. She spins around and slices the last couple tomatoes before sliding the chopping board onto the counter beside him.

“Oh, damn. Rose, could you drain the pasta, please? I forgot to.”

“’Course!” She steps around him to grab the colander from over his head and the still-very-hot pot. She drains some of the water into a mason jar, just in case they need it, and the rest goes down the sink. She tosses it a little in the colander, shaking off a little excess water and comes to stand next to him.

“Okay, add it in.” The Doctor steps to the side a little to give her room to add the angel hair to the skillet. She does so, grabbing the handle of the skillet and giving it a few tosses as well. He takes the colander from her right hand and trades her the tongs. “You can toss that all together, I’ll do a few dishes.”

“Thank you,” she says, grinning. He knows how much she loves this bit. Being the one to put it together and make the dish into a final piece. It’s objectively the most fun part of cooking, so he lets her do it every time to see the look on her face. She adds the pesto, complete with crispy bacon, and stirs it vigorously. Then the tomatoes go in. She stirs them as well and lets everything cook down together for a minute.

He begins scrubbing the colander, rinsing it out and placing it on the drying rack before moving on to the knives and chopping boards. Rose skips over to the fridge and grabs the cheese blend. She adds it to the top of the pasta.

“C’mere, Doctor! You don’t wanna miss the money shot, do you?”

He places the last knife in the cutlery cup and rushes over to Rose, standing behind her and peering over her shoulder. Rose mixes the cheese into the pasta and they both cheer at the sight of the melted cheese stretching and blending into the pasta. She keeps mixing, little strings of cheese pulling at the tongs with every move.

“That… is good stuff,” he groans.

At that moment, Rose’s stomach grumbles loudly. They both laugh and the Doctor takes a couple of steps back from her.

“Time to call cut on this cooking programme, I think.” He grabs the plates from the cabinet and brings them over to their little table, setting them out. Rose gets the wine glasses out, placing them on the table.

“I actually bought a candle at the store as well,” she says, sounding a little embarrassed. “Is that dumb? We don’t have to use it.”

“I think a candlelit dinner would be lovely,” he assures her. He gives her a soft smile. “I’ll get the matches.”

* * *

 

The Doctor sits down across from her at the table, placing his napkin on his lap and tucking in. She pours the wine into their glasses and lifts hers into the air.

“A toast to you, Doctor,” she says, grinning at him. He raises his glass, beaming. “To the best, most brilliant man I know. You are going to be such a great teacher. Those ICL students aren’t going to know what hit them.”

The Doctor blinks hard and clears his throat. They clink their glasses and take a long sip. “Thank you, Rose. I couldn’t do it without you.”

She waves her hand dismissively with a scoff. The Doctor is easily the most capable person she knows.

“No, I mean it.” His eyes are serious, flickering in the candlelight. He reaches across the table and takes her hand. “I couldn’t do it without you. Any of this. This is the one adventure I never thought I could have… And it’s been a challenge. Not just for me, I know. All of this has been so hard on you, and you’ve never left me. It’s been the biggest challenge in all my lives, learning how to navigate all these changes. All that’s different and all that’s the same. I just… thank you, Rose. I —”

He cuts himself off and shakes his head. An embarrassed grin crosses his face. “Sorry, getting a little too mushy. I can’t wait to start this newest adventure. With you at my side.”

“Doctor,” Rose whispers, completely thrown by his speech. This part human Doctor is so much better at expressing his feelings than the full Time Lord. While it’s a good thing, it’s still strange for both of them. It leaves Rose speechless and the Doctor feeling too open and vulnerable. He always worries that he’s said too much, she knows. “Thank you for saying that, Doctor. It means a lot. And I meant it when I said I was never gonna leave you. You’re stuck with me.”

It visibly puts him at ease that she isn’t upset by his overflowing of emotion.

“Oh, Rose.” He squeezes her hand. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

After a couple beats of comfortable silence staring into each other’s eyes, Rose speaks up. “Let’s dig in, huh?”

“Yes, don’t want all this delicious effort to get cold, do we?”

At the same time, they twirl some pasta onto their forks and take a bite. The Doctor groans loudly, closing his eyes and leaning his head back just a tad. Rose almost has trouble even tasting the food in her mouth with the display he’s putting on over there. When she focuses on the food, suddenly the flavours are bursting across her tongue.

“Dunno if I’ll be a great conversationalist for this meal, I’m afraid,” he says, twirling more pasta around his fork. “This is just too good.”

“Good enough to stop your gob?” Rose teases with a lifted eyebrow. “Someone call the presses.”

He makes a face that clearly says _‘oi’_ , but with his mouth full of pasta and chicken, he can’t complain aloud. Rose laughs, shaking her head and trying a piece of the chicken. He swallows hard, licking his shining lips free of pesto.

“I’ll have you know that my _gob_ can be stopped at any time. I do not talk that much,” he says, indignant. Rose snorts in disbelief.

“Doctor, I’ve spent nearly my whole adulthood with you. We’ve met countless people from countless planets. And of _all_ of them, you talk the most.”

Just as he’s opening his mouth to retort, she cuts him off. “It isn’t a bad thing. I like listing to you talk. Most of the time.”

That shuts him right up. He sits up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders. “Yes, well… Thank you.”

She laughs, flicking a tomato at him. “Eat your dinner, Doctor.”

He grins over at her, shoving another bite into his mouth and moaning. All the noises he’s making are not lost on her. They make a white hot heat pool in her belly and she has to grab her knife and cut up her chicken into smaller pieces to keep from reaching across the table to touch him.

They eat and laugh into the night, basking in each other’s company.

* * *

 

The Doctor stares at the closed door in front of him. He knows he has to open it. Has to go outside and get in the car. He can’t be late for his meeting with the Dean today, after all. Everything is getting set up today. He’ll get his office, meet his co-workers, take a tour of his building, see his lab. It’s all… kind of a lot, if he’s honest.

“Doctor? Have you left yet?” Rose steps into the living room and catches sight of him standing by the door. She comes over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You okay? You look a little peaky.”

He feels a little peaky. His stomach is rolling with anxiety for the day ahead of him.

“I’m fine.” He shakes his head, feeling foolish for being so nervous. It’s not as though this is his first job. He’s had a job or two over his lives.

“’Kay, would you maybe like to tell me the truth now?” Rose says, lifting an eyebrow. He laughs a little at that. He shifts his tense shoulders, rolling his neck.

“I’m just a little nervous, that’s all.” He rolls his eyes at himself.

“Hey.” She squeezes his shoulder and makes him look at her. “There’s nothing wrong with being nervous.”

“I’m over a thousand years old and I couldn’t sleep last night because I’m worried my co-workers won’t like me,” he says, widening his eyes to emphasise how ridiculous he is.

“Doctor, you are an entirely new being, only a few months old, in a brand new universe. Everything is a bit scary these days. It’s all so different. And there is _nothing wrong_ with being nervous. D’you want to know something, though?”

He nods.

“They are going to love you. I know it without a shadow of a doubt. You’re too brilliant for them not to. You are the most interesting person I have ever met. They might think you’re a little bit of a nutter, sure, but so do I. And I lo — I can’t get enough of you.” Her cheeks are a light pink from her slip. He lets it go. It’s more than enough that she was thinking it. He can wait as long as she needs to be ready to say it to him again. He’ll wait the rest of his life if it means he can be near her.

In the end, it’s her little slip up that bolsters his confidence the most. His chest puffs up and his shoulders relax just a bit. Rose sees the effect she’s had on him, so she relaxes too. She gives his shoulder one last squeeze and leans up onto her tiptoes. She presses a soft kiss against his cheek and his eyelids flutter closed. She pulls away and drops back down onto flat feet.

“Now go. I’ll meet you in your office for lunch later, okay? Have a great day, Doctor.”

The Doctor strikes out into the summer heat with a sense of confidence like never before.

* * *

 

Rose knocks on the office door in front of her, hoping that it’s the right room. There’s no name on the little plate, only a number. 302 is definitely the number he had texted her and she’s _pretty sure_ she’s in the right building. Her anxiety builds as she waits for an answer.

“One second,” calls a muffled voice. Her shoulders relax instantly. This is the right door. A couple of seconds pass before the door swings open, revealing a slightly tousled Doctor. His glasses are slipping down his nose and his hair is a little bit of a mess.

“I’m looking for a Dr. Doctor,” she says, faux confusion written on her face. “Could you direct me to his office?”

The Doctor laughs, stepping back and gesturing to the office behind him. “I think you’re at the right place, ma’am.”

Rose goes into the room, looking at the barren walls and empty mahogany bookshelves. His desk is scattered with a few random items, his laptop plonked into the very centre. A massive window stretches across the exterior wall, giving him a beautiful view of the campus.

“This is a nice place!”

“I know, it’s actually a lot nicer than I was expecting as an incoming professor,” he says with a huge grin. “I can’t wait to fill up the shelves and put up some art.”

“Yeah, maybe I can come up and help you decorate the place a little.” She runs her finger across the wood of his desk. It feels sturdy, strong. And somehow like the wood itself is infused with knowledge. She can see him here, sitting in the lamplight, grading papers with his glasses perched up on his nose. She smiles at the image.

“I’d like that.” He leans against the desk, bracing his palms against it. She sees him flex his fingers a little, feeling the grain of the wood.

“I actually brought you a little something.” She takes the bag off her shoulder and places it on his desk. “Other than lunch, I mean.”

“Oh?”

She unzips the bag and takes out a rectangle wrapped in tissue paper. She hands it to him. “Thought it might look nice in here.”

He unwraps the rectangle to unveil that it’s a picture frame with a photo of them in it. It’s from Christmas at their flat. They’re sitting on the floor next to their tiny tree. The lights are little blurs in the background, the focus of the image is on them, their heads both tossed back in laughter. They have half unwrapped presents in their laps, and one of Rose’s hands is reaching out for the Doctor’s shoulder.

“Mum took it,” she says, biting her bottom lip. “You don’t have to put it up if you don’t wanna, of course. Just thought you might like… I dunno.”

He looks up at her, eyes shining. “I love it, Rose. Thank you.”

He adjusts his desk a little, moving his laptop closer to the edge and further left where she suspects it’ll live once the space is fuller. He places the photo right next to it, so that he’ll see it whenever he’s working.

“I’ve never seen this picture.” His voice is full of wonder, eyes glued to the photo.

“I hadn’t either. I asked Mum if she had any of us since we haven’t really taken any since we got here. She had a couple and this was my favourite. We should really take more pictures, you know.”

He looks up at her, sliding his phone out of his pocket without a word. He gestures for her to come stand next to him and she does. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, tucking her to his side. He slides his thumb across his phone, opening the camera app. Rose laughs, tucking her face against the side of his chest.

“I didn’t mean right now.” She looks up in time to see that he had taken a photo of them like that.

“Smile,” he says.

“I _am_ smiling.” She laughs. He clicks the shutter button, snapping the photo. Next, he presses his lips against her temple and takes one more picture. Then, he steps away and tucks his phone back into his pocket.

“If Rose Tyler wants more photos, that is exactly what she will receive.” He smiles, moving pencils and pens about on his desk.

“This is a good day to commemorate. We should print those up. Your first day as a sexy professor.”

His eyebrows jump up to his hairline. “Sexy?”

Rose blushes but doesn’t back down. “Mhm, you’ve got that whole thing going. The suit, the tie, the glasses. The _hair_. Professor is a very good look on you, Doctor.”

“Ahem, well, I… Hadn’t really thought about my look.”

“I know,” she says, licking her bottom lip. Before things can escalate too far, here of all places, Rose walks around to the other side of his desk and grabs the pencil cup from the box on the ground. It was a gift from Pete back when they moved into their flat and neither of them had had occasion to use it until now. It’s black with purple and blue galaxies swirling around it. The Doctor had been taken with it the moment he saw it, so Rose had given it to him without fuss.  “Let’s tidy up a little, then we can have the sandwiches I brought for us.”

Rose grabs up the pens and pencils, placing them into the cup and putting it on the left side of his laptop. The Doctor takes a couple of books out of the box and puts them up on one of the shelves, arranging them in a very particular order, but one that she didn’t get.

Soon, they’ve emptied the box and filled out the office just a little. His desk has a few bits and bobs, there’s one painting hanging up on the walls. It’s starting to look homier already.

“Now, what was that I heard about a sandwich?” the Doctor asks. His stomach growls loudly to accompany his question and they laugh.

* * *

 

The following Saturday, they’re sitting at breakfast together. They had spent the night in his room again and woken up wrapped around each other. Since then, they’ve been touching each other at every available opportunity. The Doctor brushes his fingers along the back of her hand when he reaches for the butter, she squeezes between him and the counter to pour herself a glass of orange juice. He’s just starting to wonder whether she would be okay with him kissing her when her phone rings.

Rose is called into work. Some emergency with Torchwood bureaucracy that the Doctor is very relieved he isn’t dealing with. Probably for the best that they’re separated this morning. If they’d been cooped up in the flat together much longer, he isn’t sure he’d be able to refrain from grabbing her and snogging her senseless.

Rose is just about to head out the door when the Doctor spots her keys on the kitchen table beside her coffee mug. He grabs them and jumps up.

“Oh, Rose! Hang on, you forgot something,” he says, walking over to her. Rose pauses with her hand on the doorknob. She grins and bites her bottom lip, giving him a familiar, but confusing, look. It’s a look she’s been giving him more and more these days. The one that used to be accompanied by her snogging the life out of him before… everything. Now, though, he’s never quite sure what it means. She hasn’t kissed him since they got stranded here, and he really doubts that’s what she’s thinking of right now.

She steps closer to him, her hand trailing from the doorknob. “Oh, did I?”

He’s just about to lift his hand and give her the keys when she presses her body flush against his. He squeaks, actually _squeaks_ like a little mouse or something. Rose leans up on her tiptoes and her hand cups his cheek. His breathing speeds up and he’s about to ask what, exactly, is going on when Rose’s soft lips press against his.

Every thought in his brain stops. It’s slow. Sensual. Everything.

His arms wrap around her waist and pull her tighter against him. Their lips slide against each other and the Doctor moans low in the back of his throat. Vaguely, he can’t help but think that he’s happy he brushed his teeth already this morning.

Rose’s hand slides up from his cheek to bury itself in his hair and tug, just a little. Her lips part, her tongue slipping out to run along his bottom lip. He gasps and she takes the opportunity to suck his lip between hers and nibble on it.

She pulls back a couple of centimetres and they both gasp in air. Her breath brushes against his cheeks and the Doctor leans his forehead against hers. He gives her a peck, soft and quick, just to feel her lips against his one more time. His fingers flex against her back as he’s overcome with the urge to have her as close as possible. But she pulls away, drops back down from her tiptoes.

He takes a deep breath to collect himself, rubbing his hand across his face and the back of his neck.

“I, uhm, thank you.” He clears his throat. “But I actually meant these.”

He dangles her keys from his index finger. Her face immediately flushes a deep red.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry, Doctor. We’ve been so… _y’know_ , lately, especially this morning, and I just thought… I am so sorry. I don’t know how I misread your signals so bad. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No! No, no, no, no,” he rushes out, stepping closer and cupping her face. He kisses her with all the intensity that’s been building in his single heart since he was born. The anxiety drains from her and she kisses him back. “You have nothing to apologise for, Rose. That was… perfect. Please, feel free to do that absolutely any time.”

“Yeah?” she says, a mischievous glint sparking in her eye.

“Yeah.” He kisses her one last time and steps back.

Rose steps towards the door, keys finally in hand, and opens it. She’s just stepping outside when an idea strikes him.

“Rose?” She turns around.

“Yes, Doctor?”

“Would you like to… go to the movies with me tonight. Like a date? A proper one. You can say no if you don’t wa —”

“I’d love to.”

The Doctor smiles, feeling a little silly for asking Rose Tyler to a simple date to the movies, because they’re so much more than that implies, but it also feels amazing that she said yes.

“I will see you tonight.” She smiles at him with her tongue in the corner of her mouth. “For our date.”


End file.
